


Get a Room

by katasstropheee



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, F/M, First Time writing Smut, Missing Scene, Pre-2x19, Shameless Smut, mel and maggie are in it briefly too, so be nice please, the bedroom scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:01:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24039313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katasstropheee/pseuds/katasstropheee
Summary: One touch from Macy is enough to distrupt Harry's system.-----Based before 2x19, leading into the opening scene. inspired heavily bythis post.
Relationships: Harry Greenwood/Macy Vaughn
Comments: 17
Kudos: 74





	Get a Room

Macy stretches her arms over her head. The muscles in her shoulders ache from the abrupt action. A groan falls from her lips. When her eyes finally open, she is blinded by sunlight. It streams across the room warming her bare legs. They are uncovered and spread across the mattress, while the once tucked-in sheet is wrapped tightly around her chest and hips.

From her position snuggled deeply in her pillow, her room looks a mess. She doesn’t want to imagine what is scattered across the floor, but she can see her kimono barely dangling off her desk chair and the comforter to her right where it had been thrown without a moment’s thought. There is also a broken condom wrapper on her side table.

She blushes, shifting her weight onto her elbows. She catches the sound of running water coming from the en suite bathroom. She can imagine Harry standing in there, starch naked, and that gets her curious. She hears small taps and scuffles, and estimates he is getting ready for the day ahead….

No. She’s not having that. She left responsibility behind last night, throwing it all away for a night of pure magic. They had danced for a while, soft and slow. The building anticipation consuming them until they couldn’t contain it. They made their way inside and spent the rest of the evening stealing kisses, and discovering every space they could touch, and every reaction they could get. There was a particular spot near Harry’s breast that produced a guttural reaction every time Macy touched it.

Lying there in her bed, evidence of last night planted all around her, she feels the heat start to return. Only this time it feels new, and deeper.

Her legs nearly give way as she shuffles out of her comfortable loll and stands. The sheet slips off her body and to the floor. The sunlight dances over her stomach, and back, and thighs. Being naked like this isn’t a new experience for her, but after last night her shyness is gone. _she is free._

She picks up her silk nightdress from the floor and throws it over her head. She catches her reflection from the desk before the fabric covers her body – there are fingertip shaped bruises spread evenly over her hips. She bites her lip as she recalls the feeling. Rough. Visceral. Accompanied by kisses and nips to the back of her neck as the weight of Harry’s chest covers her back.

She rolls her shoulders as the feeling washes back over her. The rushing water coming from the bathroom suddenly shuts off. She smirks in anticipation.

She steps into the doorway, leaning suggestively on the frame and taking a moment to admire her dearest. With a freshly trimmed chin, he rubs aftershave into his jaw with an effortless delicacy Macy recognises. Chills travel up her ribs, remember how it felt when he touched her in the very same way. Then she observes the strain of his back muscles as he puts on his shirt. There are thin red scratches running down his should blades, and once again she recalls the moment so vividly – the way her fingers feel digging into his flesh, the drag of Harry’s lips on her thigh….

The burning in her stomach increases.

“Morning” she perks up watching Harry jolt and turn a little in surprise. His smile is instant and warm. “Good morning love” he responds. His voice is deeper in the mornings. It’s just another thing Macy finds too damn sexy.

“Harry, Why did you shave?” she asks, letting her disappoint be evident.

“It was due” he admits with a shrug.

She tuts sharply as she steps forward, her hips swaying as her confidence climbs. Approaching from behind, her arms embrace his waist and her hands brace his wrists, stopping him from doing up the last button of his shirt. Her fingers can feel the skin beneath, its smooth and sweltering surface. She detects the hike of his heartbeat the closer she gets to his nipples.

“Macy.” He groans in protest, but makes no attempt to halt her path.

“Harry” she groans back, her lips catching his lobe in a small pinch. He balks in response.

“Macy, we have things to do today.” Her tongue darts out and tastes the salt on his skin. “The- the Faction are steps ahead of us and we must-“

She spins him around faster than his mind can comprehend. He tries to move but finds his wrists are secured to the cold, sharp porcelain of the counter. He can feel water seeping into his trousers where they sit against the sink, but he is too fixated by Macy to pay mind.

Her hands are raised, fingers spread and twitching lightly. He can feel her magic applying a firm pressure to where his hands are stuck. He doesn’t fight back anymore. He just lets his arousal consume him. And in defiance he stares back into the witch’s wide eyes and mischievous smile.

“I don’t want to hear about responsibilities Harry.” Her voice is smooth, seductive. It runs right through him and leaves him starving for touch. He shivers as she steps closer. Their noses brush as she leans forward and lingers over his cheek. She’s not quite touching, just letting her breath tickle his raw skin. “I just want you… to shut up, and touch me.”

At those words, his control dissolves. The pressure is gone, and his hands are immediately running through Macy’s hair. Their lips collide in quick concession, a blend of lips, tongue, and hot air. To every action she gives, he reacts. It’s carnal and raw.

A different feeling from the previous night. What once was delicate touches and loving embraces gave way to rough tugs and teeth. The smouldering flame is now burning hot and unhinged. Macy is challenging every nerve he has, and there is nothing we can do, or wants to do to stop it. He lets her have her way, and feels her hands pushing his shirt up as she locates his nips…

The air around them _snaps!_

And suddenly they are falling.

Macy braces for impact as her back hits the floor. Then she braces for Harry. While his weight is heavy on her hips, he uses his arms to break his fall, bracketing her head and stopping them from colliding. They stare at each other in shock, taking a moment to assess each other with their eyes. They both seem fine, merely flushed from the vigorous lovemaking.

“What… just happened?” Macy asked, still a little out of breath.

“I-I’m not sure.” Harry takes a look around, giving her space to recover.

But in a swift change of expression, he bursts into laughter. Macy is taken aback by his sudden turn, and asks “What… why are you laughing?”

“I think…” His arms quiver and he falls into her shoulder, shuddering hard. “I think I orbed.”

“What!” she takes a glance around as best she can, and catches site of a familiar round window. “Are we in the attic?”

He’s giggling again in untamed bursts. Macy can’t help but join in. She should feel worse, currently stuck beneath a quite muscular man. But each jolt of his body sends a jolt of her own through her body. It’s an odd sensation of arousal for sure, but she can’t dismiss the feeling when it’s already there. “Harry, I swear, if you keep doing that…”

He caught the desperation in her plea. His laughter died down as he lifted himself up onto his elbow. Her mouth was open mid gasp, and he watched intently as her tongue darted out to dampen her lips.

“Doing what Ms Vaughn?”

“You know exactly, what you’re doing.”

He hums, letting it sit and vibrate in his throat. He is dabbing his thumb over her bottom lip and she nips at it, sighing as he moves it away. The teasing is starting to frustrate her. “Can we move this elsewhere, Mr Greenwood?”

He twitched his head to the side, and wore his significant smirk with pride. “I have an idea about that.”

“Good. Now if you can just sit up…”

“Oh no.”

“… No?”

Suddenly he is gripping her shoulders and lifting her off the floor. Another _snap!_ fills the air and the breath is stolen from Macy’s throat once again. It’s brief, and returns in the blink of an eye.

She’s grateful she isn’t falling this time. Instead she finds herself leaning heavily into Harry as a cold and solid surface hits her thighs. _Where are we now?_ She’s speculates while the dizziness of another orb is overcome.

“I’m sorry love, is it too much?” He asked in whimsy, mixed with a dash of worry.

“No, no. I am good” she releases a huge huff of air from her chest as her eyes adjust to the… darkness?

No, there is light. It’s coming from a small window above them. She looks around and takes note of where she is seated. A waft of detergent hits her nose and make her squirm. “The laundry?”

He chuckles. “Sorry. I wasn’t really paying attention. I just thought ‘downstairs’ and poof! Here we are.”

“Well there are… worst destinations.” She adds in optimism.

There is a smug grin planted on his face, pride in his achievement. He is often never able to shock Macy into silence, so when he succeeds he can’t help but feel overwhelming satisfaction. Macy takes one look at that smug grin, and plans her vengeance. Her hands trail up his chest and around his neck. She makes sure to brush slowly past the spot she knows are sensitive, and feels satisfaction when his grin dims impulsively. She draws closer, placing swift kisses on his jaw and cheek as she taunts; “And I have always been curious about making love on a washing machine.”

“Re-really?” he stutters.

“Hm.” Her hum sends a shudder down his spine. “When it’s on.” She kisses the tip of his nose. “And it’s vibrating.” She puts their foreheads together as her lips ghost his mouth. “And you’re doing that things with your fingers. The thing from last night.”

She feels his fingers dig into her shoulders, toiling with the straps of her dress. She feels the increase of his pulse under her wrist, and can’t tell who’s heartbeat is pounding harder.

“So Tell me _whitelighter_ … where else can you take me?”

He is watching her, calculating his next move carefully. She wants it rough, that much he can tell. So he gives her a moment to adjust her hands around his neck before grabbing her waist.

_Snap!_

The change in position jars them both. But Macy’s weight is easier to manage, so he falls back and lets her body fall on top. She sits up quickly and throws her head back. Harry watches her curls, untamed and wild, bounce around her shoulders. The way she nibbles her lips nervously, and the dipping of her dress, showing off the perfect curvature of her breasts. As much of a gentleman as he usually is, right now he is anything but.

She watches his look behind dipped eyes. She can’t help but shiver at its intensity. She looks up and away when it becomes too much and she needs to catch her breath.

Harry eyes follow up her chest, along her neckline, and back to her face. Suddenly he is caught off guard by her expression. It’s growing serious. “Macy? are you-“

“Shh.” She puts a finger to his lips. She is focusing on something in the distance. As the silence grows around them, she detects a distant rumble. It sounds… familiar. She runs a million scenarios through her head, looking for a memory that matches the sound. It finally comes to her, and she quickly ducks down. Putting her mouth to his ear, she whispers; “Mel and Mags are in the kitchen.”

That startles him out of his fantasy. His eyes dart wildly around, until he catches the shadow of the ceiling shade above them, and recognises the course material of the couch under his back. They are in the family room. _Of course_. “Ah. Okay. Then should I just-”

She shushes him again, holding him down with her magic but keeping a finger at his lips. He’s too startled to argue, so he waits for her response. He can’t hear anything but the blood rushing through his ears, mixed with Macy’s sharp intake of breaths. She is starting to relax as she slowly withdraws her finger. It scraps his lips, and his tongue darts out, just catching the tip.

“Macy, we should-“

“Harry.” He looks up and meets her eyes. There’s hunger brimming in her irises. “Remember what I said in the bathroom” she says softly, confidently.

He thinks back, the words instantly coming to mind as she lowers her head.

 _Shut up and touch me_.

It was hard to stay quiet. Even the simple act of breathing felt deafening. They kiss in long strides, letting their tongue’s tango and hold in the moans erupting from their throats. Harry’s hands are on her shoulders, gripping tight as the straps of her dress slip down her arms. Macy is grabbing at his shirt in frustration, pulling the fabric apart in earnest. A few buttons pop open. One completely comes off and flies through the air. They are so consumed in the moment and each other, and the burning sensation is only growing.

While Harry knows Macy is feeling daring enough to keep going in this situation, his modesty is still strong. He can tell she’s barely holding it together, and as his hand travels down her side and along her thigh, the pressure of her hands and lips increase. He wants nothing more than to pleasure this goddess in his lap, but right now they need privacy. Even under the mesmerisation, he knew the embarrassment would be overwhelming. So when his hand finally reaches the curvature of her ass, and she starts to gasp...

_He snaps, fast!_

And lands just as quickly. He aims for her room, but his arousal is still throwing him off course. So when they land they are stumbling back. His hand braces her head before it can collide with the wall. The loud thud of their collision drowns out Macy’s cry, as does Harry’s shoulder when she bites down. There’s a sharp pain, but he can’t complain. Soon enough, her cry melts into a groan deep in her throat. He feels the reverberation in his skin, and tug in his groin. He is now more certain than ever that Macy Vaughn will be the death of him.

He realises they aren’t in Macy’s room when he looks up and takes in the pale yellow walls. Before he has chance to get his bearings, Macy’s lips are on his. It’s a messy kiss, but it distracts him long enough to put him back on track. The hand that protected her head now pulls on her curls, while the other, that had caressed her ass into oblivion, pinches her skin and leaves deep gashes on her thigh. She raises her leg in response to the pressure, letting the hem of her dress rise.

“Harry” she whispered breathlessly, her lips now attached to his throat.

“I know, I know” he drawls out. His hands grip her tightly as she sucks hard into his neck.

_Snap!_

Macy is seated again. The sound of something heavy falls to the floor, and her hands splayed rashly at her side knock a few smaller things down with it. She’s on a desk. There’s something cool and smooth on her back. “Are we…” She can’t speak. Her breath comes out harsh and aroused.

“Yes” is all he can manage himself.

“Finally!” she shudders, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling down.

He lets her have her way, moving wherever she pushes him to go. He almost falls backwards, but she brings him back to balance. They laugh into each other’s mouth as Macy grips the waist of Harry’s trousers. Once he regains purchase, he brings a hand to her hip – the familiar sensation sends jolts through Macy’s body. The other hand, the one that had braced her thigh, has changed direction. Her dress has ridden up onto her stomach and he can feel the curve of hips shift as he dips his fingers between her legs. She throws her head back in anticipation…

“Macy?! Are you okay?”

“Macy!!”

They are jolted from their entanglement by worried cries beyond the door. They figured their loud escapades had caught the ears of her sisters, who finally emerged to see what the ruckus was about. Macy’s hands, stilled secured to Harry’s waist, absently worked their way towards his belt. Harry, now at alert, straightens his stance and focuses his eyes around the room. He finds his shirt at his feet, rippled and in need of a few sutures. “I should go.”

“No, no, no, no.” Her hands work fast, loosening his buckle. He notices and grabs her wrists. At that, she only grips the leather straps tighter. “Don’t you dare let go” she demands.

“Macy, let me go.” His voice betrays his longing, and he pushes forward for another kiss. Macy’s grip is strong and unyielding. She just wants this feeling to last forever.

_Bang!_

The door flies open in a sudden gust. And Harry is gone. Before he left he had adjusted her dress, noticing quickly how low the neckline had dipped. She _is_ grateful. But right now, sitting there in front of sisters, all she feels is sweaty and frustrated.

Melanie and Maggie look ready to fight. The youngest had even managed to grab her baton on the way upstairs. Macy observes their expressions as they look her up and down. She had crossed her legs quickly beforehand to protect her sisters from seeing more than they were prepared for, but she wished she could see through their eyes right now. What must she look like just sitting there.

She can see the relief in their stance once they finish assessing her. She is safe, unharmed. But then their eyes focus in on the rest of the room. On the bed that’s been _clearly_ slept in. The disarray of products and accessories that litter the floor. A pair of polished leather shoes that sit by the foot of the bed. _Dammit Harry_.

“Hey” she says stiffly, avoiding their heightened glances of curiosity. “Wh-what’s up?”

_Seriously? What’s up?!_

She watches them put two and two together, and hides a smirk behind her hand, covering it up with a cough. She can’t deny the satisfaction of seeing the woman flustered, especially with the amount of times she has walked in on their dates the morning after a long night. At that, they give Macy a quick nod, tell her they’ll be downstairs when she’s ready and flee, slamming the door behind them.

Then Macy sighs, releasing all the tension she’d been holding in. She glances down at the shoes lying carelessly beside her own abandoned clothes and rolls her eyes. The deep burning sensation in her groin is fading and she no longer feels the ferocity she felt when she woke up. She stands, shaking out the cramps in her legs and pressing down her dress. The bathroom is calling out to her, so she makes her way there. She feels the tangled mess her hair has become and decides a long shower is in order.

But before she escapes, she turns and addresses the empty room. “Next time, Harry” she mutters softly, a part of her hoping he’s eavesdropping, “orb us to the Bahamas.” She imagines his chuckle and bites her lips, finally closing the door with dull thud.

**Author's Note:**

> I must thank Dannii/vaughnsgreenwood on tumblr for the inspiration for this. it's a mess, but i'm proud of it. It may not be the raunchiest thing you've read, but it's the raunchiest thing I've written, and I would love feedback on how I did.
> 
> Also if you want to request more, you can find me


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